100%: the Story of a Patriot eBook

“But I tell you,” said Peter, “what
I’ve thought. I’ve got a wife that’s
a wonder, and just now while we were talking about
it, I thought, if I could only get Edythe in here
for a few days, I’d find out everything about
all the people in your home, your relatives as well
as your servants.”

“Is she a professional detective?” asked
the banker.

“Why no, sir,” said Peter. “She
was an actress, her name was Edythe Eustace; perhaps
you might have heard of her on the stage.”

“No, I’m too busy for the theatre,”
said Mr. Ackerman.

“Of course,” said Peter. “Well,
I dunno whether she’d be willing to do it; she
don’t like having me mix up with these Reds,
and she’s been begging me to quit for a long
time, and I’d just about promised her I would.
But if I tell her about your trouble maybe she might,
just as a favor.”

But how could Peter’s wife be introduced into
the Ackerman household without attracting suspicion?
Peter raised this question, pointing out that his
wife was a person of too high a social class to come
as a servant. Mr. Ackerman added that he had
nothing to do with engaging his servants, any more
than with engaging the bookkeepers in his bank.
It would look suspicious for him to make a suggestion
to his housekeeper. But finally he remarked that
he had a niece who sometimes came to visit him, and
would come at once if requested, and would bring Edythe
Eustace as her maid. Peter was sure that Edythe
would be able to learn this part quickly, she had acted
it many times on the stage, in fact, it had been her
favorite role. Mr. Ackerman promised to get word
to his niece, and have her meet Edythe at the Hotel
de Soto that same afternoon.

Then the old banker pledged his word most solemnly
that he would not whisper a hint about this matter
except to his niece. Peter was most urgent and
emphatic; he specified that the police were not to
be told, that no member of the household was to be
told, not even Mr. Ackerman’s private secretary.
After Mr. Ackerman had had this duly impressed upon
him, he proceeded in turn to impress upon Peter the
idea which he considered of most importance in the
world: “I don’t want to be killed,
Gudge, I tell you I don’t want to be killed!”
And Peter solemnly promised to make it his business
to listen to all conversations of the Reds in so far
as they might bear upon Mr. Ackerman.

When he rose to take his departure, Mr. Ackerman slipped
his trembling fingers into the pocket of his jacket,
and pulled out a crisp and shiny note. He unfolded
it, and Peter saw that it was a five hundred dollar
bill, fresh from the First National Bank of American
City, of which Mr. Ackerman was chairman of the board
of directors. “Here’s a little present
for you, Gudge,” he said. “I want
you to understand that if you protect me from these
villains, I’ll see that you are well taken care
of. From now on I want you to be my man.”

“Yes, sir,” said Peter, “I’ll
be it, sir. I thank you very much, sir.”
And he thrust the bill into his pocket, and bowed himself
step by step backwards toward the door. “You’re
forgetting your hat,” said the banker.